They performed the usual routine of taking my vitals, but instead of leading us to an exam room, we were asked to take a seat in what looked like a small conference room.
Motivational posters dotted the walls while a computer monitor’s screen saver flashed periodically with pictures of babies–this office’s success stories.
Bryson sat quietly as I watched seven minutes pass on my phone before the doctor finally knocked and entered the room.
“Mr. and Mrs. Thompson?” We nodded as the doctor entered the room with a big smile spread across his face. “I’m Dr. Hart. How are you two doing today?”
Dr. Hart was an older man with fluffy tufts of white hair on his head and black, wire-rimmed glasses framing his pale blue eyes. He exuded joy, and I wondered if it was because he’d been able to help so many desperate women like myself become pregnant. I hoped I could somehow soak up his happiness like a dried-out sponge in a sink full of soapy water.
We both mumbled variations of “I’m fine” while Dr. Hart took a seat across the table from us and flipped open the manila folder he brought with him.
“Great, great. I see you’re here because you’ve had some trouble with irregular cycles. Looks like you’ve been trying for almost a year, is that right?”
I gulped. “That’s right.”
He nodded and flipped through some papers. “Mr. Thompson, I have your semen analysis here and everything looks great there.”
My insides clenched at the reminder that Bryson wasn’t the problem, I was.
Dr. Hart nodded a few times while his eyes traced down the page before lifting his face to me. His thin lips widened into another smile. “All right, here’s what I want to do. Mrs. Thompson, I want to make a couple appointments here for you. I want you to have an HSG and an ultrasound to make sure all your insides are in tip-top condition. After that, you’ll come back to see me, and we can talk about prescribing you something like Flomid.”
I blinked slowly and felt my shoulders deflate. The nurse practitioner had said he’d wanted to do tests first, but I’d still held out hope he’d cut to the chase and just throw some Flomid at me. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.
“What are these procedures, exactly?” Bryson spoke up.
Dr. Hart turned to him with another smile. “I’m glad you asked. The ultrasound is pretty straightforward, we just want to get a good look at your uterus and ovaries to make sure everything in there looks ready to go. The HSG is a little more of an in-depth procedure. We’ll have to insert a catheter into your cervix and inject a special kind of dye that will show up on an x-ray. This is to see if your fallopian tubes are blocked or not, which is something that could be preventing you from ovulating.”
“Are there any risks with either of these procedures?” Bryson asked.
My heart squeezed in my chest at his questions. Even with how horrible I’d been treating him his first concern was still my wellbeing. My mind whirled through all the terrible things I’d said recently, weighing down my chest while the doctor explained the minor risks involved with the procedures. I wasn’t paying attention because I didn’t really care. I’d do whatever it took.
Chapter 16
Present
Before I knew it, six weeks had trudged by pushing Bryson and I even farther apart. Our interactions were down to the bare minimum. Basic “hello” and “goodbye” was about the most we said to each other every day.
Mealtimes would have been torturous if Bryson had been around for many. Most mornings I woke up, and he was already gone, and oftentimes, he didn’t get home until after I’d eaten dinner. Each night I’d leave a portion of whatever I made for him, wrapped up on the stove, and each morning, the dishes would be empty and in the dishwasher. He never thanked me, and I never brought it up.
While my relationship with Bryson was barely holding on by a thread, things with Mason were heating up, despite my attempts to keep him at arm’s length. He texted me relentlessly, waiting in the parking lot every morning with a latte for me so he could walk me inside, and somehow always seemed to finish his work when I did so he could walk me to my car at night.
The only reason he wasn’t also monopolizing my lunch breaks was because Josie had put her foot down and demanded I spend them with her.
I felt like a ship at sea, drifting away from the shore I’d spent years on, and slowly heading toward an island in the distance.
One that may or may not be habitable.
One that might be the biggest mistake of my life.
One that also might be what I’d been looking for.
Because I was tired.
Tired of the silent treatment I got from Bryson. Tired of spending my nights alone. Tired of eating meals by myself. Tired of feeling ugly and unwanted by the man who’d promised to love and cherish me.
It was with those thoughts in mind that I pulled up to work that morning, the weight of the day already bearing down on my shoulders. I turned the car off and rested my head on the steering wheel, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths.
I didn’t want to be here today. My bed had been so warm and inviting, it was just about all I could do to pry myself from its soft sheets and drag my sorry behind into the shower. I’d stared at it longingly while drying my hair, ticking off the pros and cons of calling in sick.
Finally, I’d decided that a whole day home by myself wouldn’t help my mood, even if it involved several hours of napping.
A sharp knock on my window jolted me out of my thoughts.
I should have known who it was before I looked.
“Are you all right?” Mason called through my closed window.
I nodded and gathered my things before opening the door and standing to greet him. “Morning.”
He handed me a caramel macchiato before closing the car door. “What were you doing in there?”
I sighed. “Just trying to get my bearings before another workday.”
Mason’s bright blue eyes scanned my face, his lips pursing and twisting to the side. “You look tired.”
I laughed humorlessly. “I feel tired.”
“You’re still beautiful, of course,” he added, and I felt my cheeks heat. “You always are. But you look like you didn’t get enough sleep.”
I sighed. “That’s the thing. I got plenty of sleep, but I’m still exhausted.”
Mason hummed thoughtfully. “Are you working yourself too hard here? Maybe you need a few days off.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s what weekends are for.”
I took a step toward our office building when Mason grasped my arm and pulled me closer to him. “If you need to take a couple days off, you should. I’ll cover your projects for you.”
I gulped loudly. He was so close. And he smelled so good, it was all I could do to keep still and not sway toward him. “I’m fine.” My voice was breathy and too high pitched.
Mason smiled and reached up to trace the side of my face. “I know you’ll be fine. But I want to make sure you are. I want to take care of you if you’ll let me.”
Warning bells were sounding in my head, but they were further away than they usually were. Like when you hear an ambulance’s siren, but you know they’re a few blocks away and only driving further in the other direction.
I didn’t know what he was asking for. Or maybe I did, but I didn’t want to admit it. Didn’t want to face it. I still wasn’t ready.
I held up my latte between us and smiled. “You already do take care of me, Mason. You’re a good friend.”
His eyes tightened slightly on the last word and if I wasn’t standing so close to him, I might have missed it. I knew he was going to make a comment about wanting to be more than friends, but honestly, I couldn’t deal with that right now. It was too damn early in the morning to be having these deep ass conversations and I was too damn tired to navigate them.
I smiled again and wrapped my arm around Mason’s elbow. “Let’s go Lancelot, walk me inside.”
Mason chuckled softly. “
Does that make you Guinevere?”
I scoffed but failed to comment. That would make Bryson King Arthur and I knew how that story ended.
The rest of the morning thankfully passed uneventfully, the latte from Mason helping to combat my sluggishness. Around lunchtime, Josie ordered us lunch, and we decided to eat at our desks.
We were just peeling open our sandwiches when an acrid smell hit me, immediately making my stomach roll. I slapped my hand over my nose, taking small breaths through my mouth.
“Oh my god, what is that?”
Josie looked up and raised a strawberry blonde eyebrow. “What’s what?”
“That smell,” I hissed.
Josie leaned down to sniff her sandwich. “It’s just roast beef.”
I shook my head. “God, no, this smells like someone just bathed in a month-old fish. Holy shit.” I was trying to take small breaths through my mouth, but the taste was gathering on my tongue, making saliva pool and I knew I was going to be sick.
I jumped to my feet and took off for the bathroom, dropping my hands from my face so I wouldn’t make a scene. As I got closer, the smell got stronger until I had to repeatedly swallow, just to keep my measly breakfast from making a reappearance.
I was just walking past the break room when something caught my eye and I stopped dead in my tracks. Turning slowly and taking in the smallest amount of oxygen necessary, I looked around the room until I spotted what I thought might be the culprit.
“Hey, Jack,” I called. “Whatchya’ got there?” I was going for nonchalant, but I could see in my colleague’s puzzled gaze that I wasn’t quite pulling it off.
He hefted his oversized sandwich in the air. “Wife made tuna salad.”
I swallowed a mouthful of saliva and pulled my lips into a smile before nodding. “That’s nice. Have a good lunch.”
I spun on my heel and sprinted into the bathroom where I was able to take large lungful’s of blessedly fish-free air. Now that I couldn’t smell the offending sandwich anymore, my stomach stopped rolling, and I was able to get myself back under control.
I hunched over the sink and stared at myself in the mirror, noting the dark circles under my eyes and the tiny red lines streaking the whites. I looked like shit. No wonder Mason was concerned.
I splashed some cold water on my face and patted it dry before taking a fortifying breath and leaving the bathroom. The smell of fish was still permeating the air, but it seemed to have lessened some. I made it back to my desk and plopped onto my seat with an exaggerated huff.
“What the hell was that about?” Josie asked.
“Jack Tremarco was eating a tuna fish sandwich in the break room,” I explained as I picked at my turkey club.
“And you smelled it from here?”
I shrugged. “Didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t.” She eyed me for a minute. “So, when did you get superpowers?”
I chuckled. “Superpowers would be cool. Smelling things from a room away is just obnoxious.”
I finally picked up my sandwich and took a big bite, the meats and vegetables tasting like ash on my tongue. I hastily chewed and swallowed before taking a sip of water to get the taste out of my mouth. “Did you go somewhere new for these?”
Josie shook her head, her eyes intent on my face. “Nope. Same place as always. Are you feeling all right?”
I leaned back in my chair with a sigh. “I’m just really tired.”
“And smelling things a mile away, and not liking the taste of your favorite sandwich,” she added.
“I know you’re getting to a point, Josie, so just make it.”
Her brows bunched together over her nervous blue eyes. She opened her mouth a few times to say something but remained quiet.
I sighed. “Spit it out, Jos.”
“Do you think you could be pregnant?”
I jerked back like her words had a physical force. Too many emotions to name swirled inside me.
Denial.
Fear.
Excitement.
Doubt.
And worse of all, hope.
It couldn’t be that.
I shook my head. “No, Josie. I can’t be.”
“Why not?”
I was still shaking my head. “I tried everything for over three years and nothing worked. I can’t get pregnant.”
Josie leaned forward and placed her hand on mine. “But, what if you are?”
What if I am?
I couldn’t even breathe just thinking about it. My organs scrambled. My heart was in my throat, stomach in the soles of my feet. I couldn’t tell which way was up and what I should do or feel or say or be or think.
“Do you have any tests at home?”
My head jerked into a nod. I did. I had tons of them left over from when I was still trying.
I closed my eyes and shook my head. I’d tried so hard. For years. Month after month of negatives and I’d had nothing to show for it but a marriage that was being ripped apart at the seams.
This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.
But that bitch, hope, whispered in my head, what if?
I shook my head again, harder this time. “No, Josie. It’s impossible. You have to have sex to get pregnant and we don’t.”
Josie leaned closer. “But, you did.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, before Christmas. We’re in February now.”
Josie’s eyes widened. “Which is perfect timing, you dummy!”
Her words snaked through me, igniting my veins and stealing my breath.
Could this be it?
I closed my eyes again and wrapped my arms around my stomach, hoping to keep my heart from running away. “I can’t do this, Josie. I can’t let myself hope again. I just can’t.”
I heard Josie sigh before her thin arms wrapped around my shoulders. “I know, babe. I know what it did to you, I watched it happen. The light slowly fading from your pretty blue eyes was just about the saddest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s slowly returned, and I’d do anything to keep it there. But this could be it. It really could, and I wouldn’t be saying that if I didn’t truly believe it. You know that.”
I did. Although she was mouthy as hell, nothing ever left her lips that she didn’t mean.
“I don’t know, Jos. I don’t think I can do this.”
She pulled back and crouched down so she could look me in the eye. “Listen, I know it’s scary, but it can only go one of two ways. Either you stay like you are now, or you find out the greatest news of your life. Take some time and think about it and if you want, you can call me, and I’ll stay on the phone with you while you read the results. I can even come over if you want.”
My lips lifted into a watery smile. “You’re a good friend,” I whispered.
She waved a hand and stood up. “Pssh, I just want to be the first to know.”
A small chuckle fell from my lips and I already felt better. Stronger. Like maybe I could face this and come out the other side in one piece. Like maybe another negative wouldn’t shatter me like I thought it might.
I sniffled and took a deep breath. “You’re right, Jos. I’m gonna’ do it. I’ll take a test when I get home.”
She returned to her seat and leveled me with a serious look. “You want me to come over?”
I shook my head immediately. I needed to do this on my own. I needed the room to breathe and break a little if it turned out like it always did. “That’s okay. I’ll be all right on my own.”
“What about Bryson? Will he be home?”
One small dark chuckle fell from my lips. “Probably not. He’s never home anymore.”
A million words floated behind Josie’s eyes, but she kept her lips pressed together and let them simmer instead of sharing.
The rest of the afternoon felt like a whole workweek while I waited for the hours to tick away until I could go home and take a test. I was dreading and anticipating it in equal parts and that did funny things to the clock on the wall.
When fo
ur finally rolled around, I was out of my seat and packing up my desk before Mason even made it over to me.
“Hey there, you in a hurry?”
I looked up and shot him a brief smile. “Yeah, I need to get home.”
“Oh, I was hoping you’d want to go out and get a drink with me.”
A drink.
Butterflies flew and swooped through my insides as I realized there might be a legitimate reason why I couldn’t join him.
“Sorry Mason, maybe another time.”
“Yeah?”
He sounded so hopeful. So happy. And I did that to him. Just by agreeing to get one lousy drink with him sometime, it seemed like I’d made his day.
Why couldn’t things still be like that with Bryson? Why couldn’t my company be enough to keep him happy? Why didn’t his eyes light up like this when he saw me?
I shook off the unhappy thoughts and remembered what I was about to do.
I was going to take a test.
The first one in over nine months.
And I had symptoms. Real reasons why it might come up positive for the first time since we started this journey.
Then that bitch, hope, spoke up again, what if this fixes things with Bryson?
But she was right. What if this was what we needed? What if this was the thing that could pull us back together? What if this was the key to solving all our problems?
Doubt slithered around hope, muffling her voice until it was just faint whispers, but I’d heard all I needed to hear.
Chapter 17
Past
We were once again seated in the same small conference room, waiting on Dr. Hart to grace us with his presence.
Both procedures had been relatively easy and pain-free, thankfully. I’d been told the procedures had gone well and there was no cause for concern, but I was eager to hear those words from Dr. Hart’s mouth.
A knock on the door prefaced the doctor’s crazy white hair and wide smile. “Hello folks! How are we today?”
We mumbled our hello’s and fine’s while Dr. Hart took a seat and got himself situated. He rifled through his folder before looking up at us with a grin. “Mrs. Thompson, I hear your procedures went excellent! Well done! There was nothing of concern that we found on either your HSG or your ultrasound.”
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